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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197870">Blue Umbrella</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurodine/pseuds/fleurodine'>fleurodine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Amnesia, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Coffee Shops, Disapproving Family, F/F, Fashion &amp; Couture, Fluff and Angst, Introvert England, Rich Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:02:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurodine/pseuds/fleurodine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[ON HOLD DUE TO REWRITING. SORRY]</p><p>"Heavy rains, unexpected meetings, and various forgotten possessions continue to dance around two people’s lives."</p><p>Alice Kirkland, proud owner of "Tea o' Clock Cafe", supposed heir to her Aunt Nancy’s bank, and entrepreneur extraordinaire had recently caught herself in the middle of a huge mess that was Françoise Bonnefoy.</p><p>She was everything Alice wasn’t: charming, kind, selfless, unabashed, and free. She was also a mystery and a paradox, for how can a woman so open be so secretive? With each new encounter they have of each other, Alice uncovers a part of Françoise and unexpectedly, herself. But a secret remains hidden under the Frenchwoman’s sophisticated façade; a secret that was never to be uncovered, especially towards Alice’s fragile heart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female England/Female France (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Silver Linings in Happenstance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello there! This technically isn't the first fanfic that I've written, but this will be the first on that I've posted on this platform. I've actually posted this story before on Amino and Wattpad but... it was just so shitty that I had to rewrite it a couple of time before posting it here. I don't even think this is even good enough but whatever. Anyway, happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Pitter-patter.</em>
</p><p>Alice Kirkland had nothing to do by the end of her day at work, except wait for the bus to come and fetch her as she waited at her stop. Her clothes were damp and her hair had turned to a brownish hue from its beautiful blond color, dripping from the precipitation. She hoped there were disposable umbrellas in the bus stop, but her luck had run out as the rain had already caught up to her and not a single umbrella was available for her to use.</p><p>Working as the manager of the small coffee shop she was in was already hard enough, but being the <em>owner</em> was even harder. She was always the first one to arrive and the last one to leave. She constantly has to worry about each customer’s feedback and calculate the pay she had to give for her employees.</p><p>
  <em>Pitter-patter.</em>
</p><p>She reached her hand out to play with the raindrops. The weather was cold for sure, but she paid no attention to it nor entertained the thought of catching a cold. Everything felt peaceful enough for her to reminisce her leftover childhood memories when she would play in the rain with her brothers, or when they’d read Shakespeare and reenact his plays on particularly stormy nights.</p><p>On that day while waiting for the bus to arrive at her stop, Rosa felt like all was well and everything was perfect.</p><p>Until a certain flaxen-haired maiden carrying a navy-blue umbrella decided to stand right beside her in that bus stop.</p><p>Alice had familiarized the woman’s face, as she had always seen her stand and wait in the same stop as her every 5:30 PM. The woman always had the same vanilla scent waft around her, wore the same rose brooch on the left side of her grey coat, carried the same designer bag, and the same updo hairstyle with some sort of floral accessory decorated on it. She was like those beautiful porcelain dolls displayed in an antique shop; delicate, charming, and timeless.</p><p>But Alice never saw her get on any of the buses that passed by that stop and that fact alone intrigued her. Was she waiting for somebody? A friend?</p><p>Or perchance… a lover?</p><p>Alice was never the type to indulge in senseless inquiry of somebody else’s personal life, but her curiosity on this mysterious woman made her mind run in circles with questions every time she saw her.</p><p>Who was she waiting for? Lover? Friend?</p><p>Why does she always wait in the same stop? Is there something special about this place?</p><p>Does she come from a rich family? She seemed posh enough.</p><p>How come she looked way too familiar? It was as if she had already met her at some point in my life.</p><p>With all the questions occupying her mind and the vanilla scent filling her senses, she hadn’t noticed that she was already making eye contact with the said woman.</p><p>“<em>Excusez-moi?</em> Are you alright madam?”</p><p>“Why do you smell so lovely?”</p><p>By the time Alice uttered those words, she felt like God was about to strike her down from embarrassment. Her face was flushed and her hands kept fondling the hem of her skirt. She was tongue-tied, abashed, and utterly stupid that she couldn’t even elicit a single sound from her lips. A bad case of the jitters.</p><p>But the woman smiled and let out a small chuckle from her actions.</p><p>“<em>Pardon?</em>” she said. “I don’t quite follow what you mean.”</p><p>“<em>Oh, bollocks. Be still my beating heart</em>” Alice cursed in her thoughts. The way the mysterious woman speaks in English was awfully reminiscent of that of a French, with the weird pronunciation of words that contain the letter “r” being the most prominent.</p><p>Oh, who was she kidding, of course the woman had to be French, she literally used French words when she asked her a question. It didn’t really help that she looked like a stereotypical French either; picturesque, alluring, and absolutely posh. Compared to her, she was the exact opposite.</p><p>“Madam? You’re awfully silent. Is there something wrong?”</p><p>“Ah, well… nothing really. Please pay no attention to me.”</p><p>“It may be too late for that I’m afraid. I’ve got my eyes and ears on you ever since you commented about my smell. Rather creepy on hindsight if you ask me.”</p><p>Now she’s really done it. She had managed to embarrass herself at a complete stranger in the worst way possible she could think of, which was by doing a piss-poor job at giving a good first impression. <em>Good going Alice, you are doing a bloody good job at talking to people.</em></p><p>“There’s no need to beat yourself up for that,” the woman said.</p><p>“Um, what do you mean by that?”</p><p>“What I mean is that you, no offence by the way, shouldn’t curse at yourself for having poor social skills. Also, you were thinking out loud.”</p><p>
  <em>Strike two!</em>
</p><p>Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, it did.</p><p>Poor Alice Kirkland was on a roll as she was further embarrassing herself for the second time in a row. She felt like a third of her soul just left her body. One more mistake and she would probably to do something insane like standing still in the middle of the road during rush hour in the hopes of getting hit by a car, or even sail away to Nova Scotia, wishing never to talk nor meet this French woman again due to mortification.</p><p>“Good lord, please don’t think less of me. I’m just a twit with poor social skills. Really, I only wanted to… umm… complement your appearance… and your smell because… you smell good? Oh bollocks, please forget everything I ever said to you. You know what, lets both agree to forget this conversation ever happened.”</p><p>The woman merely chuckled and nodded in response.</p><p>“<em>Well</em>,” Alice thought. “<em>That’s one way to get out of an awkward conversation</em>.”</p><p>
  <em>Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.</em>
</p><p>The rain was beginning to get a little stronger and with the wind picking up speed, Alice was getting even more drenched by the second. She was shivering and sneezing from the cold like a poor abandoned street cat on Christmas morn.</p><p>The French woman took notice of this and shuffled her way closer to her, took off her coat and hung it around Alice’s shoulders.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Alice asked.</p><p>“Clearly trying help you from getting a cold. Nobody can afford to get sick especially at this time of the year.”</p><p>Alice can feel herself getting redder and redder, and her stomach churning from all the embarrassment she was giving herself.</p><p>“I’m sure you pity me, seeing me in such a state.”</p><p>“But I don’t pity you, madam”</p><p>“Then I pity you for pitying me. A dunce like me doesn’t deserve your kindness.”</p><p>The woman shook her head. “Alice, was it? Well I believe that everybody deserves to be treated with kindness.” She took out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped Alice’s face from the mix of rainwater and sweat. “And I don’t pity you, I’m just being sensible,” she added, handing the handkerchief to Alice so she could wipe herself properly.</p><p>“Then I should thank you for your kindness, even though I’m a mess. I’m Alice by the way, though you probably already know that by now.”</p><p>Alice stretched out her hand and the woman took it, giving her a firm handshake.</p><p>“Françoise. Nice to finally meet you properly <em>mademoiselle</em>.”</p><p>
  <em>Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.</em>
</p><p>The rain was certainly picking up now. Stronger winds blew and flirted with the young women’s skirts. More and more raindrops kissed their skin as even more puddles formed in the pavement. Françoise opened her umbrella up which sheltered both her and Alice from the weather. Alice, who was clearly feeling warmer than Françoise, felt a twinge of guilt as she witnessed the taller woman struggling to keep herself dry.</p><p><em>“Should I return the coat back to her? What if she thinks I insulted her if I gave it back? What if she thinks I’m being ungrateful? I don’t want to embarrass myself again. And what about this handkerchief? Should I also give it back? I am seriously getting a drink after this. But anyway, why was she being extra kind to me? To say that she was only being sensible seems too farfetched if you ask me. Does she want to become friends with me? Is this why she was doing all of this? Wait, are we possibly friends already? I want to ask her but what if I make a fool out of myself again. This is all too confusing for me, I’m going to drink some ale once I pass by the pub.” </em>These were the thoughts that circled Alice’s mind.</p><p>She always had a hard time identifying social cues, but this situation just takes the cake for being way too unfamiliar for her to be able to comprehend. In the end, she decided to give the coat back to her.</p><p>“No, please. Just put it on until your bus arrives.”</p><p>“I insist. You’re getting yourself wet. Performing some sort of self-sacrifice for the sake of my own well-being under these circumstances doesn’t make you a martyr. Now take it back. This is yours and you should wear it. Also please take your handkerchief back. I’m already done drying off”</p><p>“Ah, what noble words coming from a gentle woman such as yourself. The coat, I can take back, but the handkerchief, you should keep. Consider it a gift, a sign of friendship. You might also need to dry yourself off again with your dress still soaking wet from the rain. For good measure, why don’t you take my umbrella as well. I keep an extra one in my bag just in case.”</p><p>And just before Alice could protest, the bus had made its way to their stop.</p><p>“Well, it was great that I finally got to know you Françoise. I’ll see you next time,” Alice bid farewell as she got on the bus.</p><p>“<em>Adieu mademoiselle, </em>until we meet again Alice.”</p><p>Alice looked on from the window seat to see her new friend disappear from her view as the bus made a turn to the right.</p><p>Françoise was a peculiar woman alright, but also very insightful. From the few minutes Alice got to know her, she deduced that the woman was kind, compassionate, and gentle, not to mention absolutely attractive, but her politeness and exercise of morals caught her attention the most. In Alice’s eyes, Françoise was a diamond in the rough, a special kind of person.</p><p>For Alice, she was <em>too perfect to exist.</em></p><p>Alice drifted on to a drowsy state as she occupied herself with curiosity surrounding the French woman, forgetting about getting off the bus thus completely missing her stop, and when she found herself aware of her surroundings again, she was filled with panic that it took her two whole minutes to open her mouth and inform the bus driver to stop.</p><p>And now she found herself fifteen minutes away from where she was supposed to get off. With not a single penny left in her pocket, she was left with no other option but to walk all the way to her flat. With the rain showing no signs of stopping, she felt rather lucky that Françoise lent her an umbrella.</p><p>She wandered on the sidewalk, stepping and splashing a few puddles here and there, her clothes were still drenched and her shoes were even more, but she did not care. If her clothes get dirty, so what? She’ll do the laundry this Sunday anyways. If her shoes break, then so be it? She’ll just buy a new pair. Never has she felt this carefree in years, it was only her, the streets, and the rai—</p><p>
  <em>TUG!</em>
</p><p>A random hand had pulled her to a pub.</p><p>Alice looked up at the person’s face too see who had pulled her in, and to her surprise, she saw a head of white hair, red eyes, and an all too familiar toothy grin. Her old colleague, Maria Beilschmidt.</p><p>“Well, well, well. Would you look at that, I just caught a wild Alice Kirkland in her own natural habitat of Portsmouth. What were you doing out in the streets? Hopefully you weren’t out drinking again?”</p><p>“I was not,” Alice laughed. “We’re not in college anymore you know, I got rid of my drinking habits long ago. Besides, even if I <em>did </em>want to go out for a drink today, I’ve got no money left in my pockets.”</p><p>“How hypocritical *hic* of you. You’re supposed to be the rich one among our friend group *hic*. Rich people are always stuffed with green in their pockets.”</p><p>“And how hypocritical of <em>you. </em>The one without a drinking problem being the deathly drunk one among us.”</p><p>“Hey, not my fault that I’m a German. Portsmouth is littered with pubs here, and where there’s alcohol, there’s bound to be a German loitering around somewhere.”</p><p>Alice shook her head. “Maria, you can’t just blame your heritage for your actions. Besides, you’re a police officer. Aren’t you supposed to be on duty right now?”</p><p>“Nope. At least not until tomorrow madam.”</p><p>“Even so—”</p><p>“Oh, shut up Alice, cut me some slack and let me enjoy some beer, or better yet join me!”</p><p>Alice shook her head. “Absolutely not! I would very much like to go home now.”</p><p>“You’re not fooling anybody my darling Alice,” Maria slurred as she lazily sat on a chair. “Now sit here with me and let’s talk for a bit.”</p><p>“Alright, alright… you bloody git, I’ll drink with you but only if you pay for me.”</p><p>“Deal!” Maria exclaimed. “So, what are you having?”</p><p>“Just one pint of ale.”</p><p>“Just one? Really? You really have no plans on getting hammered, do you? Well, suit yourself. Also, here are my car keys. I’ve got some spare clothes in my bag, It’s in the passenger’s seat. You look really soaked and that is so not awesome.”</p><p>Alice only smiled at her friend, no longer wanting to engage in further arguments. Now, all she wanted was to be dry and enjoy a nice drink with Maria.</p><p>
  <em>Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.</em>
</p><p>The rain was finally beginning to calm down.</p><p>The sky was starting to clear up.</p><p>The streets were still littered with puddles.</p><p>And Alice had the fortune of meeting two friends.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Drunken Ramblings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After being forcibly dragged into a pub by Maria, Alice decided that she would take this as an opportunity to catch up on life with her old friend. But things began to turn sour as the sky darkens and their drinking session goes on.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some profanity ahead. Just a little heads up for you guys. Also, Nyo!Prussia shall be referred to as "Maria." I am aware that most (or at least the people that I know) prefer to use the name "Julchen", I just like the name "Maria" more so... please don't sue me?? lol... but do tell me if it bothers you guys so I can change it.</p><p>Anyways, happy reading! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>CLANK!</em>
</p><p>Maria slammed down her pint glass as the atmosphere in the pub grew heavy. Her eyes were watery and her speech was slurred, whatever words that came out of her mouth were barely comprehensible for Alice at this point</p><p>“I’m just so tired now, you get me Alice? You remember my little brother Ludwig? Turns out that <em>dummkopf </em>was ditching law school to become a nurse. A nurse, I tell you! Only doing that to chase after some girl. You know how expensive *hic* the tuition fee for law school was? He’s just wasting money and frankly, being a huge burden to <em>Vati. </em>And oh, <em>Vati, </em>bless his heart for maintaining his patience on the ingrate.” Maria downed her fourth pint of beer. “I’ll just have to thank God that <em>Mutti </em>had been long dead. At least she didn’t have to deal with this deviant.”</p><p>“Maria! Don’t say that.”</p><p>“What? It’s true though. If she were still here today, she’d give Ludwig a big beating with my late Uncle Freidrich’s walking cane.”</p><p>“Oh, would you just leave Ludwig to his business for once. You’re too attached.”</p><p>“I only want what’s best for my family and I’m only making sure that they make good choices. I’m calling it now; he’s going to leave that woman and that stupid school around the first semester, and he’s going to come back home on his knees, *hic* and beg me to forgive him *hic* and to take him back to law school.”</p><p>“Don’t you think that’s a little too harsh,” Alice cringed.</p><p>“That’s how life works *hic*. Every action has its consequence, and as soon as he realizes that, it’s going to hit him like a truck.”</p><p>Alice decided it was best to leave Maria to her drunken ramblings, knowing very well that it could anger her even more if she brought up Ludwig again.</p><p>Hearing about Ludwig committing such an act was jarring, as he was usually such an obedient boy. But hearing about it also reminded her of herself, though unlike Ludwig, she was much more difficult to contain.</p><p>As a child, she would run and hide away from her dear old Nanny Gertrude whenever she tried to put her to bed. She would also bother her older brothers just for the fun of it, and occasionally her father who was always engrossed in his paperwork.</p><p>When she grew older, she also grew even more restless. She would continue to run around the halls of their manor back in Surrey, playing with her imaginary friends and annoying the maids in the process as they continued to clean the windows or mopped the floors, earning her the nickname of “the wandering gremlin” to the disdain of her Nanny Gertrude.</p><p>She was also rebellious: refusing to dress properly in formal occasions, talking back to her older brothers during arguments, and refusing her Great Aunt Nancy’s dying wish of her taking over their family’s bank. Alice never liked her Great Aunt Nancy, as she thought that she was “too posh, too old fashioned, too dull, and too close-minded”. Her poor older brother, Allistor, had to do it in her place and that caused his resentment for her to grow even bigger.</p><p>Alice was sure she did even more horrible things, but she just couldn’t remember much because of how long ago it was or because of the alcohol running in her system. How many pints had she consumed already anyway? Two? Maybe three?</p><p>She took another swig at her ale, the golden liquid spilling a bit from the corners of her lips. Maria was still rambling about her brother, though a little quieter as to not disturb the other patrons, until she passed out.</p><p>It was already 6:30 PM and the sky had already turned dark. Alice knew she needed to get back to her flat before her landlady scolds her and gives her a lesson about following curfew, but how could she leave when her friend was absolutely hammered on the table?</p><p>
  <em>What do I do? She’s completely wasted. I can’t just leave her here, what if something bad happens? Should I just take her keys and drive her home? But what about me? How will I get home? My phone is dead and I can’t call anyone. Maybe I should just leave her… she’s capable enough. NO! She may be a police officer, but she is still a woman! But my curfew… Bollocks, I should have gone home. If there really is a God out there, now would be a good time to give me a sign.</em>
</p><p>As she was having an internal breakdown on weighing out her options, she noticed Maria’s phone flashing.</p><p>
  <em>Someone’s calling her! I hope its not one of her superiors.</em>
</p><p>She picked it up, and was delighted to see the name on her screen.</p><p>
  <em>It’s Ludwig! Turns out, there is a God after all.</em>
</p><p>She let out a sigh and immediately answered the call.</p><p>
  <em>“Where the hell are you?! Vati and I have been waiting for you for two hours now. Do you have any idea how–”</em>
</p><p>“It really is you! Ludwig, it’s me, Alice. Kirkland. Alice Kirkland. Your sister’s friend. Do you remember me?”</p><p><em>“Alice?” </em>Ludwig said quizzically. <em>“Why do you have Maria’s phone? And, where is she? I’ve been trying to contact her five times now.”</em></p><p>“She happened to see me pass by, then asked me if I wanted to go out for a quick chat. I agreed and now… we’re at a pub. And your sister is extremely intoxicated.”</p><p>
  <em>“SHE’S DRUNK?!”</em>
</p><p>“Passed out actually.”</p><p>
  <em>“Scheiß– I specifically told her not to go out drinking today since she’ll be on duty tomorrow. Which pub are you both in right now?”</em>
</p><p>“The Canalside. We’re sitting near the entrance. Please hurry, your sister looks deathly green.”</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, I’ll take a cab right away.”</em>
</p><p>“Thank you, Ludwig. Also, do you mind if you could come fetch me too? I left my wallet in my flat.”</p><p>
  <em>“Its fine, I was about to do that anyway.”</em>
</p><p>“Thanks again Ludwig. You’re a life saver.”</p><p>As she put the phone down, she felt a small tug on her shirt. Maria, who was (surprisingly) still conscious, kept tugging and pointing at her phone.</p><p>“Hey, who were you talking to? Why do you have my phone?”</p><p>“Oh, your brother called. I asked for him to come and fetch us both.”</p><p>“Come on…” Maria groaned. “We don’t need his help. I’m sober enough to drive.”</p><p>“No, you’re not. Now clean yourself up.”</p><p>“Pfft. How… unawesome. You’re no fun anymore ever since you got yourself a fancy job as an owner of a café.”</p><p>“Well if your idea of me being “fun” is being an irresponsible person, then I’m glad I’m not fun anymore.” Alice tried to hoist Maria from the table, but her friend refused to budge, staring at the television rather than going to the bathroom to fix herself up. Alice gave up quickly and decided to muse herself with some telly for a few minutes, when a familiar face showed up.</p><p>“Hey,” Maria pointed out. “Isn’t that *hic* Carmen? Huh, what a big shot.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Alice mumbled, for she was in awe with what she saw.</p><p>Carmen Hernandez Carriedo, their old colleague and one of their closest friends, was now a star. She was not only a singer, but a rising actress as well. It had been months since they’ve managed to contact her, but seeing her being this successful in life was enough for Alice to say that she was fine.</p><p>“Her singing is still as lovely as ever,” Alice remarked.</p><p>“She’s living the life.” Maria replied, all the while attempting to grab another drink. “Good for her.”</p><p>Alice was quick enough to catch Maria’s hand before she could do anything else. “Maria, would you please quit that. Your brother will be here any minute now.”</p><p>“Fuck that guy. Like I said, *hic* we totally don’t need him. Look, I’m going to drive you home to prove to you that I am super fine and really awes–”</p><p>“MARIA!” A loud, booming voice emerged from the doorway, startling some of the patrons. The owner of it being none other than Ludwig Beilschmidt.</p><p>“Oh, speak of the devil. Has the <em>sauerkraut </em>come to pick up his useless emotional baggage?”</p><p>“Please Maria” Ludwig sighed. “Could you cut that out. I know you’re still mad at me, but can we just go home now? <em>Vati </em>is worried sick about you.”</p><p>Maria sauntered slowly towards the doorway as Alice tried to support her wobbling legs, but Maria pushed her away. “I’m fine. I can manage.”</p><p>Alice looked on at Maria with pity. She pitied her for many things. She pitied her for trying so hard to do what was right, and pitied her for the future headache she’ll be getting in the morning. She quickly grabbed the umbrella Françoise lent her that was left sitting in the umbrella stand by the entrance. Ludwig and Alice slowly walked towards the car, trailing behind the poor drunk. As soon as Maria reached the car, she dropped down and proceeded to vomit on the roadside.</p><p>“I told you not to drink today, now look,” Ludwig scolded.</p><p>“Shut up <em>schweinhund. </em>Nobody asked for you to open your mouth.”</p><p>“There was no need for you to use that word. Just… get in the car, will you? We can talk later when we get home.”</p><p>Maria begrudgingly stepped inside the backseat, her head hung low from shame and her face red from intoxication and raging anger. Alice followed suit, sitting right next to Maria, whose eyes were now red and watery, no longer full of life but of pain. Ludwig sat in the driver’s seat and started to drive, making their way to Alice’s flat.</p><p>Three minutes later, Maria had already drifted into a deep slumber, her soft snores resonating in the car. Alice gently placed her friend’s head on her shoulder, wanting her to rest more comfortably.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Ludwig muttered, breaking the silence. “You had to see us arguing, in public too. I presume she already told you?”</p><p>Alice was a little startled, but nodded in reply. “It’s ok. Everybody’s got their own problems too. And yes, she told me.”</p><p>“But you understand me, right? Wouldn’t you do the same if you loved someone?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’ve never exactly experienced love in that way before. I only know that love <em>can</em> make you do crazy things, at least that’s what people tell me.”</p><p>Ludwig paused for a bit, then nodded. “Of course, sorry to ask you that question.”</p><p>“It’s alright. I’m a little surprised though, never thought of you as the romantic-type.”</p><p>“I’m a little startled myself,” Ludwig smiled. “You really do learn something new every day.”</p><p>“She must be a lovely woman then for you to act that way. I suppose you fancy her <em>that </em>much. When can we meet her?”</p><p>“When the time is right. By that, I mean when Maria has finally calmed down. Knowing her, it might take months. Let’s all just stay patient, see where things take us.”</p><p>“Point taken.”</p><p>Alice looked on at Maria, whose mouth was now ajar and small amounts of drool dripping from the corners. Her breath smelled of lager, and her eyelashes laced with tears. She stroked her silver hair, now cut short like a man’s instead of what it was in college, it being long and flowing.</p><p>Soon enough, they arrived at Alice’s flat. She carefully laid Maria’s head on the car seat and stepped outside, greeted by the sound of silence and the cold wind. The rain had long stopped but the umbrella stayed slightly damp. For a while, she forgot she still had that thing and Françoise’s handkerchief.</p><p>“That’s a lovely umbrella you got there, Alice. A rather expensive one too. A Maglia Francesco if I’m not mistaken. I know your family is wealthy and all, but you’re never the one to buy such things. Is it a gift?” Ludwig proclaimed as he pointed at the blue umbrella.</p><p>“Oh, this? No, it’s actually a friend’s, I borrowed it. I didn’t know it was expensive. I better take good care of it then. Wait, how did you know it was pricey?”</p><p>Ludwig chuckled. “Its because of my girlfriend, you see. She has a blog about luxury brands. I find it quite odd though, what kind of friend would entrust someone so expensive willy-nilly? You didn’t even know how much it was worth until I told you. Unless of course, your friend isn’t really a friend but a lover! Or maybe an admirer.”</p><p>Alice gasped and choked a little. “How could you jump to conclusions so easily?!”</p><p>“I mean, think about it. If you wanted to borrow something precious from Maria, let’s say her favorite jacket, would she do it? Of course not. But if you had a boyfriend on the other hand, that would be more likely.”</p><p>“I’m telling you, it’s just a friend.”</p><p>“Yeah sure, I believe you–”</p><p>“That friend is a girl.”</p><p>Ludwig’s voice faltered into silence for a moment, and the silence felt like minutes to her, before finally opening his mouth in a quiet response. “Oh… I see.”</p><p>“You know how my family is like, they don’t approve of… those kinds of relationships. Hyper-religious folks, remember?”</p><p>“Ok, I know. I get it. Sorry to assume so quickly. Uh… we should really get going now, Maria’s got work tomorrow and you should get some rest too. Drink plenty of water and avoid drinking coffee in the morning, or anything with caffeine really. A cup of sweetened tea is a fine alternative though.”</p><p>“Why are you telling me all of this?”</p><p>Ludwig started up the car again and smiled. “In case you get a hangover, which you probably will have. Stay safe Alice.”</p><p>Off the car went, gradually getting smaller and smaller until it was no longer to be seen. Alice found Ludwig’s behavior to be off-putting, getting anxious and silent after she told him it was a girl, noticing a defensive sort of tone in his voice. Maybe he was hiding something, or maybe he was just uncomfortable at the topic of homosexuality. Either way, they were already gone before she could ask anything about it.</p><p>She stepped inside the building, pleasantly surprised to see that she had arrived ten minutes before curfew. Her landlady, Mrs. Anderson, was nowhere to be seen, but the warm cup of tea sitting on the coffee table suggests that she was close by. The floorboards creaked ever so slightly with every step she took, and the stairs creaked even more.</p><p>Inside her room, her clothes were scattered all around her floor. Her books were disorganized, some found on the floor still opened facing right-side up. Her flat looked like a pigsty, as if a bunch of orphaned children lived here instead of a lady, or as if a burglar broke in and stole something valuable (which sounded more likely as the window was still left open). But Alice knew everything was just as how it was when she left.</p><p>She left the umbrella in the rack and looked around for her charger, which proved to be quite a challenge with the state of her room. After fining it behind her hamper, she promptly took her phone and plugged it into the nearest socket. She was rather surprised to see her phone screen pop up with a series of notifications from a very unexpected person.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Allistor </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>13 New Messages</em>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope that you're all liking the story so far. I'll admit that this chapter is slightly rushed so if any of you reading this find errors, I'll try my best to correct them. English isn't my first language you see. I would also appreciate if you guys could provide me some constructive criticism :)</p><p>Thank you~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Arguments in the Toss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alice finds a string of messages from his older brother, Allistor. She then finds herself glued to her thoughts (and her phone) for the rest of the night.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Profanity warning! A little heads up for all of you. Happy reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>Allistor</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>13 New Messages</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“Shit! I am so dead.”</p>
<p>Alice scrolled down her messages to read whatever Allistor had to say. Usually when Allistor sent more than five consecutive texts, it pertains to important business.</p>
<p>And this was no exception.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>16:33</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>I need to talk to you. Very important. Call me as soon as you’re done with work.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>16:59</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Alice? You there? Pick up the phone ASAP</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:15</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>I can’t contact you, is your phone on airplane mode?</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:20</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Alice, I know you’re done with work pick up the phone</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:21</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Alice??</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:34</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Alice please pick up</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:37</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>This is really important. I’m not kidding.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>17:40</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Alice, I’m worried. Where are you? I called your landlady and she told me you haven’t gone home yet. You usually respond quickly.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>18:00</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>It’s already 6 PM. Where are you?</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>18:06</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>You’re testing my patience right now…</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>18:20</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>hey alice its me peter… allistor’s lowkey mad at u rn… lol no he’s mad likeee big mad. he’s been super silent and that is NOT good. we tried calling but we couldn’t reach u. is ur phone ded?? call him when u get this message ok? ily byeee :)</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>18:47</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Ludwig just informed me that you went out drinking?! Alice Kirkland explain yourself! What was the point of sending you to rehab for Christ’s sake? I am going to have a serious talk with you later.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>18:49</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>DO NOT BLOCK MY NUMBER</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>While the other text was already exuding a very foreboding tone, the latest one just amplified it to ten. Alice felt her soul leave her body, or rather, it being dragged to the depths of hell. Her palms were sweating and her feet grew colder. A few seconds later, she received another text message. This time, from his younger brother, Peter Kirkland.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Sender: Nasty Little Bugger (Peter)</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Received: 18:53</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Message:</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>            Allistor’s gonna call u anytime now. tf wer u thinking??? ur bout 2 get fucking nuked by sir grouchy pants’ scolding. RIP fam, still love u thooo. will pray 4 ur soul bcuz ur clearly gonna need it</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Not a moment too soon, her phone started ringing. Caller? Allistor Kirkland.</p>
<p>She hesitated for a bit, contemplating whether to answer or not. In the end, she decided that she would get things over with and answered the call. As long as she didn’t have to deal with this problem in the morning, she was fine.</p>
<p>“He-hello?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!  Seriously, you actually went out drinking. You were only out sober for three months.”</em>
</p>
<p>“I know, big mistake… but Maria–”</p>
<p>
  <em>“There we go again, blaming other people for your inefficiency to control yourself. And another thing! That friend of yours is doing a horrible job at being… well… your friend! She’s supposed to know that you’re still recovering. And isn’t she a policewoman? I swear if I wasn’t so forgiving, I would have reported this incident to her seniors.”</em>
</p>
<p>Alice thought that her brother's words were rather cruel, but she stood her ground and did her best to direct his attention back to her. “Forgive her brother. She was drunk, if anything, just place the blame on me. And don’t assume that she was being a bad friend when you don’t even have friends of your own.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t you sass me woman. You’ve already given me plenty of headaches in one day.”</em>
</p>
<p>Alice couldn’t help but smirk as she heard his voice display a tone of annoyance. Allistor always hated it when she’d remind him about his ‘very lively’ social life. “Sorry. Now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about? Something important?’</p>
<p><em>“Ah, of course,” </em>Allistor sighed. <em>“About that, I need you back in London next week. I needed to tell you this in advance just in case you can fit this in your schedule. Peter will fetch you of course.”</em></p>
<p>“Why do you need me there? Can’t I just send in a representative or something? This <em>is</em> about business, if I’m not mistaken.’</p>
<p>Allistor huffed, clearly getting even more irritated. <em>“No. It’s not just about business. It concerns familial matters. Aunt Nancy’s inheritance I mean.”</em></p>
<p>“Can we not already? I really want to put that topic behind us all. Again, I’m not taking over the bank.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about her estate in Wimbledon. Apparently, Father doesn’t want it anymore and wants it sold off. Its valued at around £20 million and we already have a few potential buyers. We want you to be there when we make the decision.”</em>
</p>
<p>“If we do manage to sell it, how much of the share will I get?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Thirteen percent. That’s already a lot if you ask me. Same goes for the rest of us except for Father, he’ll get twenty percent. Ten percent goes to business matters, maintenance, and other repairs and the rest goes to charity. Rather nice if you ask me.”</em>
</p>
<p>Alice pondered around for a bit; matters concerning money always manage to bewilder her. Thirteen percent <em>is </em>rather large. In fact, she could use it to further expand her business into other locations as well.</p>
<p>“Alright," Alice replied. "I’ll check my schedule. I’m sure I’ll find a way to fit that right in.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Thank you. And don’t be late. Father hates it when we’re late. Especially you.”</em>
</p>
<p>The phone call then ended then and there. No warm farewells nor well wishes, but she preferred it that way, although she’d very much prefer if her brother would stop reminding her that she was a recovering alcoholic. Although she did get a little revenge on him for reminding him about his friends (or, rather, lack thereof). As she looked at herself in the mirror, she found herself looking rather green and her lips pale. Whether it was from the alcohol or from the phone call she did not know and did not care. She also found herself still in Maria’s clothes, although slightly damp. It was a simple white blouse and a pair of black slacks.</p>
<p><em>“Looks like I have more things to return,” </em>she thought.</p>
<p>She quickly changed into her own clothes and placed Maria’s into a separate hamper. Her wet work clothes were hung on the makeshift clothesline in her bathroom to dry. She also took the time to clean her place up, putting the books back in their shelves and picking up her other clothes. She closed the windows and began cooking dinner, which really was just leftover chicken from last night. She wasn’t exactly bad at cooking per se, rather she found her cooking to be subpar at best. She excelled at making sweets and other confectionaries, but cooking and baking? Not so much. In fact, she absolutely hated it when she did (more so tried).</p>
<p>After eating, she caught sight of the lone blue umbrella sitting in her rack. She remembered! Ludwig told her it was an expensive thing. She took the umbrella off the umbrella rack to admire it a bit.</p>
<p>It was indeed beautiful, the patterns used on the umbrella and the chestnut wood handle all screamed “elegance”. Françoise did have wonderful taste; she’ll give her that. While admiring its details, she found a small handwritten tag around the handle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>If lost, please call (023) 9xxx xxxx</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Or send to xxxx Park Rd, Portsmouth xxx xxx, United Kingdom</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her handwriting was beautiful and legible. The letters thin like its owner’s frame, and stylistic like the spiral shapes found on new ferns. She soon found her heart beating faster.</p>
<p><em>“Françoise is too blessed, as if God had blessed her too much that he forgot to leave in a space to place a single flaw in her,” </em>she kidded.</p>
<p>Alice was now incredibly infatuated at the very thought of <em>her, </em>which she found unusual considering she was never truly attached to people she had just met. Perhaps it was her kindness? Her appearance? Her voice? Her overall vibe? She had to know!</p>
<p>Should she call her the number on the umbrella? It was probably too rash, she thought. She kept reminding herself not to make a fool of herself any further, but her irrational curiosity continued to sway her decisions.</p>
<p>Eventually, she dialed the phone number.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>*click*</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Good eve–”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>But before the person at the other end of the line could say anything else, Alice abruptly ended the call.</p>
<p>“That person was definitely not Françoise. Now way in hell it was!” The voice sounded more masculine, not feminine. It sounded way too different and not a single lick of French could be traced in there. But what if she was just hearing things? Maybe the alcohol was muddling up her brain already.</p>
<p>Yeah, maybe. After all, she did drink. Perhaps she was less sober than she had initially thought. Perhaps a goodnight’s rest was all she ever really needed.</p>
<p>She drank a couple glasses of water before slipping under the covers. She was finally ready to end the day then and there.</p>
<p>But her loud thoughts continued to echo in here mind, engaging in a useless debate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Call the number again. Just do it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But what if it was the wrong number? That voice was not hers.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Just do it. No harm in trying. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ll embarrass myself again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Call it. Call the number.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As the saying goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But it also says that “Satisfaction brought it back.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I should just drink water again. No point in arguing with myself since nobody wins.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>She got out of her bed and took another sip of water, then hesitantly reached for the phone. <em>“Maybe one more call won’t hurt. After this, it’s off to bed.”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ring</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>*click*</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Good evening. Bonnefoy Apparel. Roderich speaking. Before anything else, I would just like to remind you that we will no longer accept any more calls after 8PM. But anyway, how may I assist you tonight?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly enough, it was the same voice from earlier.</p>
<p>“Ah yes, is there a woman named Françoise in there at the moment? I just wanted to talk to her about something. Err, she’s tall, blonde, French, owner of a Maglia umbrella that’s colored blue?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“…”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“The woman that you may be looking for is currently not around. She left the studio hours before, but may I ask who this is?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh, pardon me. My name is Alice Kirkland. You uh… may know my late aunt as–”</p>
<p>
  <em>“The former CEO of N. Kirkland Banks Limited?! Mein Gott, I hope we’re not in hot water.”</em>
</p>
<p>“What? N-No! This isn’t urgent business so no need to panic. I just wanted to know if Françoise was there, but since she wasn’t then I guess I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” Alice said, slightly disheartened. “She <em>will </em>be here tomorrow, right?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Of course.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Then can you please tell her that I still have her umbrella. Honestly, who lends someone an expensive umbrella willy-nilly?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you talking about the Maglia? But that’s her favorite one! Please do take care of it ma'am!"</em>
</p>
<p>“I– I will, thank you.” And just like that, Alice placed the phone down and ended the call.</p>
<p>Now this really confused Alice even further. Not only has the woman lent her an expensive umbrella, but her favorite one as well? And who would place the phone number of their workplace as the contact number? The woman was already a mystery to her, yet she successfully made herself an even bigger one.</p>
<p>She made sure the umbrella was properly kept in a safe place before drinking more water and making her way to her bed again, now wanting nothing more than to sleep peacefully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The day after was not very forgiving to her, spending a good three minutes vomiting in the bathroom. She really should have not drunk that much last night, but at least it was a Sunday which meant that she had no work to do. She still felt too sleepy, but she knew Mrs. Anderson, her landlady, would not have it if she slept in again and missed the warm breakfast that she had made for her. So, she decided to walk downstairs, albeit ungracefully, and greet Mrs. Anderson with a warm smile and join her for breakfast. But she stopped herself from doing so when Mrs. Anderson surprised her by standing next to the door with a tray filled with toast, eggs, grilled tomatoes, and a warm pot of tea.</p>
<p>“Good heavens child! You’re up early. I was just about to place this on your table and leave, but I must say you tidied up your room quite nicely. Was that the effect of your drinking last night?” Mrs. Anderson chirped haughtily.</p>
<p>“Did my brother tell you that? I presume he did.”</p>
<p>“Indeed, he did,” said Mrs. Anderson. “He also told me to make sure you weren’t sick and that you had breakfast. You aren’t sick, are you?”</p>
<p>“No, just a hangover. I’ll be fine though, don’t worry Mrs. Anderson.”</p>
<p>“You better. I wouldn’t want to have to deal with your drunken arse again. You know what happened last time.”</p>
<p>Ah, last time. She remembered the mishap very clearly, where she had thrown up all around Mrs. Anderson’s good carpets after a late night of partying. It had been years ago since, but the embarrassment and the scolding were forever ingrained in her brain.</p>
<p>Alice only nodded in reply.</p>
<p>Like what Mrs. Anderson said, she placed the food on the table and left the room, but not before checking the bathroom for any more “mishaps”. Alice took a bite of the still warm toast and grilled tomatoes and a nice sip of black tea. She was very thankful for what her landlady had done, but silently wished for her to be less uptight.</p>
<p>With the time already half past eight, she thought that she would try calling the number once again, hoping Françoise would be there already.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Scotland makes his appearance! Let's give him a warm welcome (or not). From this moment on, he will be referred to as "Allistor" in the story. I personally like this name because it sounds really cool :D</p>
<p>As always, criticism is welcomed with open arms. It would mean a lot if I knew what your thoughts and feelings are towards the story so that I can make the necessary changes. (btw should I make the chapters longer??)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hello Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Before anything else, I just wanna let y'all know that I barely edited this chapter so there may be a few mistakes. If you do find any, please let me know.</p>
<p>Happy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>*click*</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Good morning, Bonnefoy Apparel. Roderich speaking. How may I help you?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yes, its Alice Kirkland. I’ve called to check if Françoise is already around. Her umbrella you see.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Say no more Ms. Kirkland, I will inform her right away.”</em>
</p>
<p>The call had been cut off into silence and Alice sighed in relief.</p>
<p>So, she <em>was </em>there and this was truly fortunate for her. Now, she could return the umbrella back and hopefully see her again, maybe engage in small talk to know each other a little more. She might even give her some sweets while she’s at it. Hopefully she’d like–</p>
<p>
  <em>“Bonjour, Françoise Bonnefoy speaking.”</em>
</p>
<p>And there goes Alice once again, all tongue-tied and abashed just from hearing the woman speak. Curse her poor communication skills, and curse that woman for handing her the umbrella. She has made a fool out of herself one too many times already since yesterday, no way is she going to repeat that again.</p>
<p>“H–hi, its Alice, I wanted to call you to remind you about your umbrella. Also, I got this number from the tag attached to the handle. I tried calling last night but Roderich informed me that you were already out.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, yeah! The umbrella. It’s not broken, is it?”</em>
</p>
<p>“No! It’s –ahem– it’s perfectly fine. He also told me it was your favorite so I had to be extremely careful.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sorry, I really forgot that I lent you THAT umbrella of all things. I should really be more careful.”</em>
</p>
<p>Alice chuckled. <em>“Perhaps she does have flaws.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Hmm? Did you say something?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Ah! N–nothing. I didn’t say anything, was just… talking to myself.” Bollocks. She should really stop thinking out loud, especially if she’s around Françoise. “By the way, should I send it to the address on the umbrella?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, yes please. If possible, can you send it to me in person? The address on the tag is the address to my studio.”</em>
</p>
<p>“YES! Yes, I uh –ahem– I will. No problem.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Great, I’ll see you then.”</em>
</p>
<p>And just like that, Françoise hung up.</p>
<p>Alice nearly jumped for joy when she knew she’d be meeting her again. <em>Nearly</em>. She stopped herself when she wondered why she felt that way, why she felt immense glee. She only met Françoise for one day so why should she feel this way? Maybe she just felt lonely. Yes, that must be it. That’s the only reasonable explanation.</p>
<p>She hurriedly finished her breakfast and took the quickest shower in her entire life. She wasted no time in putting on her clothes and walked out the door with the umbrella in hand. A few steps outside her flat, she noticed something unusual. Something soft and fluffy under the soles of her feet.</p>
<p>That’s right! She was still in her slippers.</p>
<p>She placed the umbrella on the coffee table near the entrance and ran up the steps to change her footwear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The address to Françoise’s studio was easier to find than what she had initially thought, only being a few minutes away from her café. She found Françoise waiting near the entrance. Alice called out to her and Françoise smiled and waved.</p>
<p>“Alice! Glad you found your way around. It’s nice to see you again.”</p>
<p>Nice? Did she actually hear that right? Françoise said that it was <em>nice </em>to see her? Alice felt her face heat up and her stomach churn.</p>
<p>Françoise smiled and leaned a little closer. “So, where’s my umbrella?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s right–”</p>
<p>Wait a minute. Alice knew she had it, she was <em>sure </em>she had it. It was supposed to be on her hand. Where was it? She then had a mental argument with herself.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Think Alice, think! Where the hell did you put it? Where did you last see it? Think back. Think hard. You came here by bus; did you leave it there? No, it can’t be. You didn’t see anything left on the seats when you got off. Think more, where did you go before that? Yes! you were at the bus stop but there was no umbrella there. Think harder, you were outside your flat, you had the umbrella for sure. Was it stolen? No, it can’t be.”</em>
</p>
<p>Alice was frantically looking around. Up, down, left, right– wait. Down! Her shoes…</p>
<p>
  <em>“I remember going back inside to change my shoes, the umbrella was with me. I placed it on the coffee table then went back up to change. Then after that–”</em>
</p>
<p>“Alice, are you alright? My umbrella, where is it?” Françoise was getting worried from looking at Alice who was just mumbling under her breath.</p>
<p>“Coffee table,” Alice said.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I left it on the coffee table. I fucking– GODDAMNIT I LEFT IT THERE!”</p>
<p>Alice was about to dash back and hail a cab, when an arm pulled her back.</p>
<p>“Where are you going Alice?” Françoise asked.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry I left you umbrella back in my flat. Don’t worry though I’ll get it back. It’ll be very quick I promise. I am just so sorry I apologize.”</p>
<p>Alice expected Françoise to curse at her, yell at her, maybe hit her for leaving it behind. But none of that happened. Instead, she heard a hearty chuckle, and then a boisterous laugh. It was something Alice completely hadn’t expected and it made her heart flutter.</p>
<p>“Oh Alice. You’re such a funny person. Do all English people fluster this way?”</p>
<p>Alice’s heart sank. Was she making fun of her? She felt her eyes well up in tears.</p>
<p>Françoise took notice of this and panicked. “Oh no nono<em>nono</em>… please don’t cry. I don’t intend to be mean. I didn’t know you were this sensitive– OH please don’t take that the wrong way. <em>Merde</em> this was not supposed to happen. Uh… do you have a tissue with you?”</p>
<p>“Here.” Alice took out a handkerchief from her bag, it was the same handkerchief Françoise gave her from yesterday.</p>
<p>Françoise took it from Alice’s hands and dabbed it softly on the corner of her eyes.</p>
<p>“There, much better,” Françoise exclaimed. “It hurts me to make someone cry. It’s alright if you left it. As long as it’s safe with you, I’m perfectly fine with that. Let’s step inside my studio for a bit, do you want some water?”</p>
<p>“That would be nice, thank you.”</p>
<p>Alice was now sitting on a chair with a cup of water in hand, and Françoise sat right beside her, staring intently just in case Alice wanted anything. Once again, Alice had completely flopped in maintaining a good impression, making a fool of herself for two days straight. How could she possibly forget to bring the umbrella, the very reason why she met up with her.</p>
<p><em>“Alice you complete buffoon. How could you leave behind something so important?” </em>she scolded herself.</p>
<p>“If I may interject Ms. Kirkland, Ms. Bonnefoy, would you both like a cup of tea?”</p>
<p>Alice looked up to see who the owner of the voice was and found a darker skinned girl with pigtails, holding two cups of tea who looked no less than 18. The girl placed the cups down on the table in front of them and stretched her palm out to Alice with an ecstatic grin on her face. “My name is Michelle. Pleased to meet you Ms. Kirkland. I’ve heard much about your family and I can’t believe I could actually get the opportunity to see you.”</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you as well.” Alice shook her hand firmly and exchanged a polite smile. “This tea smells lovely. Chai tea? I could definitely smell cinnamon in there.”</p>
<p>“You’re right, although I think I added too much cinnamon. Sorry in advance if it doesn’t appeal to your tastes, I know you own a wonderful café just a few blocks down and you must be an expert when it comes to tea. And oh dear, I’m talking too much again. All I want to say is that it’s alright if you hate it–”</p>
<p>“Oh, come on,” Alice interrupted. “It’s probably not that bad.” She took a small sip and placed the cup down. “Well, you certainly added a lot of cinnamon in there, but you added a lot of milk as well. Can’t exactly call it a cuppa if there’s more milk than tea. Don’t feel sad though, nobody’s perfect, and preparing the perfect tea requires a lot of practice. I’ll finish this up though, it would be a waste after all.”</p>
<p>“You seem to be more comfortable with talking to my intern rather than with me, who is your friend and who you came for. Unfair if you ask me,” Françoise remarked. She didn’t even bother taking a sip and only played with the star anise floating around her cup.</p>
<p>Alice could only stare at her with wide eyes and her mouth agape. Michelle remained shocked and politely excused herself from the room by awkwardly shuffling out the doorway. “I’ll… retrieve the cups once you’re both finished with drinking. If you may excuse me Ms. Bonnefoy, I shall finish the paperwork <em>god this is getting too awkward…”</em></p>
<p>Alice felt the corner of her lips curl upward. “That really wasn’t necessary Françoise. Threatening your coworkers like that isn’t very nice.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t threatening her, I was only stating the obvious. You did sound more comfortable talking with her than with me. I noticed you tugging your clothes and mumbling words whenever you talked to me. Do I look mean to you?”</p>
<p>“No!” Alice shook her head. “You don’t look mean.”</p>
<p>“No? Well, do I look intimidating then?”</p>
<p>“Ah, well, err… how should I say this… in the politest way possible… maybe?”</p>
<p>Françoise hid her face in her hands and let out an audible sigh. “Is it my outfit? Is it the makeup? What makes you think I’m intimidating? It’s my hair isn’t it. Ah, I knew this updo doesn’t suit me.”</p>
<p>“It’s not like that at all… she also looked much younger and–”</p>
<p>“Are you telling me that I look too old?! Is that why you’re so scared of me?” Françoise interrupted.</p>
<p>“I don’t mean that you look old and scary. What I mean is that I feel more comfortable talking to people younger than me. It makes me feel like… like I have more control of the conversation.”</p>
<p>Françoise sighed in reply. “You do have point there.”</p>
<p>And after that short conversation, the atmosphere fell into silence, and this silence made Alice feel irritated. She wanted to talk more, hear her voice again even if it was just one syllable, as her voice provided her with a familiar solace. Should she engage once more? Perhaps, though what is there to talk about? The weather was too mundane and politics was out of the question.</p>
<p>She looked around for something, anything to keep up a decent conversation. She saw the rose brooch on Françoise’s blouse and admired its detail a tad bit longer than what she had intended, as Françoise took notice of this and took it off.</p>
<p>“You like this brooch?” she asked. “It was a gift from the same person who gifted me that umbrella. Isn’t it beautiful?”</p>
<p>“Is that brooch expensive as well?”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, yes. I considered pawning this off a few years back because I lacked financial stability at the time and I was informed that it was made of white gold. Once more, it was custom made.”</p>
<p>“How come you didn’t go through with it?”</p>
<p>“Why, it’s too precious! If somebody took the time to pick out an expensive gift for me, then I’m never getting rid of it.”</p>
<p>“You keep telling me that I’m weird Françoise but I think you’re pretty weird yourself, valuing sentimentality over financial stability. But I must say that this friend of yours has incredibly refined taste,” Alice remarked. “I’m starting to think that this <em>friend </em>of yours is your <em>lover.</em>”</p>
<p>And she had good reason to suggest so. The pricey gifts and the fondness in Françoise’s tone was far too evident, but Françoise shook her head and let out a weak smile.</p>
<p>“You caught me there; the person is the love of my life, or rather <em>was. </em>We were both happy but her family was very disapproving and I’m sure you can guess why.”</p>
<p>“<em>Her</em>? It was girl all this time? I never entertained the thought of you swinging that way. My apologies if this topic is a little touchy for you, I only wanted to compliment your brooch and your outfit.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright, I now think of that part of my past as a beautiful memory. I only hope that you don’t think of me in a negative way for loving a woman.”</p>
<p>“I actually appreciate your openness. It’s admirable.”</p>
<p>“And I also thank you for your open-mindedness, <em>mademoiselle.</em>” Françoise smiled genuinely.</p>
<p>Alice felt her cheeks burn up again after hearing Françoise call her such a nickname. True, French people often call young women <em>mademoiselle, </em>but Alice was no French and would still be caught off guard when called that way. As far as she could remember from what limited French she understood, the term was now a way for men to address particularly young and attractive women. Françoise was certainly not a man, but after knowing her preferences, Alice thought that maybe that word <em>does</em> have some connotation after all.</p>
<p>Alice quickly dismissed her thoughts after hearing Françoise speak.</p>
<p>“When will you be able to return the umbrella?” Françoise asked.</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry but can I return it next week? My family needs me in London for business matters. They can’t really make a decision without me to be honest,” Alice laughed.</p>
<p>“You know, you should smile more. You’ll look much better that way. Also, loosen up a bit, we’re friends now. Feel free to open up to me whenever you’d like.”</p>
<p>Alice was aghast. Françoise had called her pretty! Well not technically but she basically said that. Perhaps her suspicions were correct? Maybe Françoise was trying to woo her into accepting her affections. Maybe she does have other motives after all, but Alice quickly dismissed those thoughts as well. They had only met a day ago, and she learned that it was better not to judge other people so quickly. Alice nodded her head and smiled. “Thank you for your flattering remarks, I appreciate it.  And I’ll make sure to loosen up more as well. I should get going though, I have to prepare myself for London. I’m sorry that I forgot your umbrella and I’m very sorry if I wasted your time.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright,” Françoise replied.</p>
<p>Alice waved goodbye at her and she waved back. As she walked out of the room though, she was sure she heard Françoise murmur something but wasn’t quite sure what it was about.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I honestly don’t know what to do with the ending. I’m thinking of changing it. But what are your thoughts? Again, constructive criticism is super welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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